


Not All Monsters...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Desire, Episode: s02e03 Bloodlust, Fear, Love, Lust, M/M, Pre-Slash, Self Loathing, Self-Hatred, Understanding, Vampires, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: The boys run into a new hunter.  He creates tension between the brothers.  Sam makes a new set of friends, which also creates tension between the brothers.Season 2 Episode 3 as seen through Wincest Colored Glasses.





	Not All Monsters...

**Author's Note:**

> Well at long last, here is the next story in this series. 
> 
> As always it is unbeta'd. My brain is still foggy from a very dark and stormy bout of depression that lasted a lot longer than I had hoped. So please if there are any mistakes in this story, point them out. I need help with this one guys because I don't trust myself yet to be back at full force to have found even the most glaring mistakes so feel free to nudge me and point any out that I missed.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

AC/DC’s Back in Black was blaring from the newly christened cassette deck as the brothers drove down the road for the first time in the new and improved, Dean rebuilt, Impala.

A smile so wide, Sam thought he had never seen its like, burst across Dean’s face as he yelled out, “Whoo! Listen to her purr.”

Dean turned the thousand watt smile towards his brother and asked, “You ever heard anything so sweet?”

Dean’s ebullience was contagious and Sam couldn’t help his grin digging deep dimples in his cheeks.  He teased his brother, “You know, if you two want to get a room, just let me know, Dean.”

Instead of becoming annoyed as Dean had every time Sam had opened his mouth the last week, Dean looked down at the front of the car, reaching his hand out and rubbing the dashboard, “Awe, don’t listen to him Baby, he doesn’t understand us.”

Dean’s cheeks appled up in a satisfied smirk.

Sam watched the display in disbelief.  He couldn’t help but allow it to color his tone when he said, “You’re in a good mood.”

Dean’s smile whip-cracked into a serious furrowed brow, and his head turned to Sam, his voice suddenly taking on a dark tone when he asked accusingly, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Sam could think of a thousand reasons his brother had been anything but happy over the last few weeks since their father’s death.  He had been angry, sullen, despondent, silent, anything but happy, the entire time they had been at Bobby’s.  He barely had given Sam any time at all, choosing to be at the car, from sunrise until well into the night, each and every day.

Sam had tried to keep busy, researching every book Bobby would let him get his hands on in his vast hunter’s library.  He had scoured newspapers and radio waves for anything sounding remotely like a case, but he couldn’t keep the ache from his heart, at the absence of Dean’s, larger than life personality, haunting his every waking moment.

The nights had made it even worse, because in his dreams, Dean was everywhere, from the moment he went to sleep he tossed and turned though immense amounts of pleasure into horrible nightmares of Dean’s death or almost worse, his rejection of Sam.  He had emotional whiplash every morning when he woke up and was more tired than he could ever remember being.

So he was rattled by the change in his brother’s demeanor.  He had come bounding in to Sam’s room, waking him up that morning, telling him to pack because they had a case.  Then when they walked out to find a vehicle, Dean had unveiled the Impala from under a tarp with the exuberant flare of a well trained magician.

Dean’s suddenly harsh, somewhat cold tone of “Why shouldn’t I be?” echoed through Sam’s head like a gong of warning.

His heart pounded with the fear that he somehow ruined the moment. Sam tried for an innocent, if somewhat disingenuous, answer of, “No reason.”

Dean switched back to the high of only a moment before saying proudly, “Got my car, got a case.”

What Sam failed to hear was Dean’s mind finishing the statement with, _Got the love of my life, my beloved brother, by my side!_ as the exclamation on the end.

Instead Dean ended with, “Things are looking up.”

They drove the rest of the three hundred miles to Red Lodge, Montana with the music cranked up and a smile on Dean’s face.  Sam wanted to be happy, but he couldn’t get the thoughts of his nightmares out of his head.  His mouth kept wanting to form the words that would end his world, and so he had to fight to keep his lips tightly shut.  Tried hard to let Dean’s happiness flood over him and through him, and be as contagious as he wished it was.

It was good when they rolled into town and he could turn his thoughts more pointedly to the case at hand.

Dean was having trouble focusing on the case. He let Sam take the lead with the Sheriff because he was distracted by Sam’s ability to slip into any role.  Sam had been a little rusty when they first got on the road together last year, but he had really come into his own with the lying part of the gig.  It was a little distracting.  But not as distracting as how Sam looked in the costumes.

Dean wasn’t sure which outfit he liked Sam in best, the reporter suit coat for the Sheriff, or the white medical assistant get up for the morgue?  Both made Dean think of different scenarios he would like to play out with his brother, which just ended up making him horny and angry at himself.

He was pretty sure he liked the lab coat on Sam more, because he was having a hard time not thinking about all the ways Dr. Sam could examine him.  He thought maybe getting Sam mad at him would distract his libido so he talked Sam into digging around in the victim’s mouth in spite of Sam’s clear distaste to do so.

Seeing the girl’s head in the cooler box was enough to almost free Dean from the intense desire for his brother momentarily, but then Sam went and did what Dean told him to do, with not that much convincing necessary.  It somehow turned Dean’s crank even more than the outfit did, to see Sam do something he didn’t want to do just because Dean told him to.

But then Dean was distracted out of his boner misery when he noticed a hole in the victim’s gum. When he pressed on it, a fang emerged.  That changed the entire scenario of what was happening with this case.

The brothers went to the local bar that night in search of information on where a vampire nest might be.  The bartender told them of a place, where rowdy night people had recently moved in, but that wasn’t the most interesting thing that happened at the bar.  Both brothers noticed a guy at a table against the wall who was too interested in their questions, and when they turned to leave he was gone. 

They went outside, and instead of going straight back to the Impala, they edged their way around to the back of the bar, moving nonchalantly down several alleyways before disappearing out of sight.

The man who had been listening to them inside followed the brothers at a distance.  He lost sight of them around a corner and stood confused for a minute.  He turned making the mistake of looking momentarily back the way he had come and when he faced his initial direction again the boys pounced, moving as one well oiled machine together, shoving the stranger against the alley wall and insisted he show them his teeth.

He didn’t act like a vampire and showed them his gums without much complaint.  He told them he was a hunter too, introduced himself as Gordon Walker, and seemed to know all about them when they introduced themselves.

He took the Winchesters back to his car and showed them his rig of weapons hidden there.  He knew all about their dad’s death and said he had even met John once.  He said with awe in his voice, that he had heard they were having no trouble filling their dad’s shoes, that from what he heard, they were great trackers and good in a tight spot.

He told them that he had killed the two vampires in town and that he had been hunting this nest for over a year, tracking them here from Austin.  He insisted they let him take on the rest of the nest by himself.

Gordon left the boys standing in the rain in the bar’s parking lot.  It didn’t sit well with either of them.  Neither Winchester enjoyed the feeling of a job left undone.  Sam got a bad vibe about the other hunter, something just didn’t sit well with him about Gordon, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Dean was just really itching to kill something.

They followed the hunter at a distance until he led them to a large, factory sized, machine shop next to a lumber company.  They watched in the shadows as Gordon took on a lone vamp but once it was clear he was about to get killed the boys ran in.  Sam jerked Gordon out of harm’s way while Dean faced the vamp.  Dean grabbed up a peavey hook and used it to knock the vamp around.  Once he had the guy down he punched him hard a couple of times and then stabbed him with the pointed end of the logging hook.  He used the long saw that the vamp was trying to kill Gordon with to finish the job of cutting off the vamp’s head.

Sam watched in horror as his brother did the deed stone faced.  Sam wasn’t sure which one of them he was more mortified by, Dean’s coldblooded way of ending the vampire, or Sam’s own intense desire for his blood splattered brother afterwards. 

Over the years, he had seen Dean end monsters in some pretty gruesome ways and had never really been disturbed by Dean’s ability to be hard core with it.  And hunting had always caused Dean’s blood to boil which is why he usually went out and found a pretty young thing to bang afterwards.  But Sam just thought of it as a job.  

Something had changed inside him recently.  It was like after Dean’s near death experience, he couldn’t get enough of Dean, was desperate for him in a way he hadn’t been before, he was always desperate, but it was just like a slow simmer under the surface that he had learned to live with over the years.  This was different this was gasping for breath as you drown under water, desperate.  And every movement, every facial expression just made Sam ache in a new or different way.   He was pretty sure he had never been as aroused by Dean as he was at this moment and that was saying a lot because Sam was always aroused by Dean.

Sam had never realized that watching Dean do violence turned him on, but the boner he had to hide at the moment felt almost as big as the peavey hook Dean had wielded, so this was something he was going to have to admit about himself.  His face churned up in anger about the discovery and bitter confusion about this new side to his already warped desires.

Dean turned from the vamp and saw the disturbed look on Sam’s face.  He didn’t like seeing Sam upset by what he had just witnessed.  Violence had never bothered Dean.  He reveled in it.  But seeing Sam’s face look that way, in response to Dean’s blood covered visage made Dean wince. 

But maybe it was a good thing if Dean’s violent tendencies turned Sam’s stomach.  Maybe that would work to Dean’s advantage.  If Sam was bothered by Dean, maybe he would keep a distance.  Not too far, since Dean obviously had lost that battle with himself.  He couldn’t let Sam walk away, he knew that, so he didn’t want to disgust Sam too much.  But even though seeing that look on Sammy’s face towards him had hurt, maybe he should try to make it happen more often as a way to convince himself that he could never have his brother, in fact, didn’t deserve him even if he could.  Nothing else had worked, maybe this would.

Dean was feeling pretty low about himself on the way back to the bar to let Gordon buy them the drink he had promised.  Now that Dean thought about the horror on Sam’s face, he didn’t feel so good about the plan.  He didn’t think he could handle seeing Sam’s disappointment in him, let alone disgust.  But maybe drowning his sorrows was a good thing.  Maybe just letting go and trying to enjoy the fact that he had another successful kill under his belt could alleviate the pain in his chest.

They sat around the table and Sam hadn’t even touched his beer when Gordon decided that they needed shots to go with it.  Gordon paid for those too and as he downed his in one go he laughed and told Dean it was beautiful how he had taken out that vamp.  Sam’s stomach churned.

Dean was halfway through his own beer and took the compliment with a smile.  He glanced over at Sam where his brother sat, his body arched away from the table, not even touching his drink.  His face was neutral to anyone watching but Dean knew his brother wasn’t happy.  He tried to get a read on him by asking, “You all right, Sammy?”

Without looking at his brother Sam answered with a somewhat dejected tone, “Yeah I’m fine.”

Gordon called out across the table, “Well lighten up a little, Sammy.”

Sam turned towards the man and with a nod of his head in Dean’s direction, Sam said, “He’s the only one who gets to call me that.”

A tiny upward crook of Dean’s lip was the only indication of the impact of the statement but his chest felt as if a superheated balloon had exploded underneath his ribs, filling his whole body with surprised warmth.  He could barely catch his breath and tried to hide how big that simple sentence felt to his entire existence.

He looked down at the table and tried to compose his face, tried to focus on what Sam was saying but could hardly contain what was going on inside himself.  Since Sam had turned sixteen, he had fought with Dean over his calling him Sammy.  Most of the time it was a playful game but there had been days that they boys had gone to blows over it.

To know that Sam now had a rule, that Dean was ‘allowed’ to call him that, was the ONLY one who could call him that, Dean could barely control his heart, his dick and his soul from surprised delight.

His glee became a lot easier to manage as Sam described to Gordon how decapitations weren’t his idea of a good time.  It reminded Dean of why he was so eager to drink in the first place.  Dean’s kill had caused Sam to look at him in disgust.  His boner shrank and his shoulders hunched.

Gordon told Sam he needed to have more fun with the job and Sam’s nerves rankled even more when Dean agreed with the hunter.  Sam couldn’t stomach any more when Dean said Sam could learn a thing or two from Gordon. 

Sam had listened all his life to Dean telling him to be more like their dad, and their Dad had told him to be more like Dean.  He wasn’t about to sit here and let Dean tell him that he should be like this cold blooded hunter who laughed about decapitating vampires, like it was a game.

He hated that Dean seemed to enjoy this man’s company.  He felt jealousy riding up his spine and hated himself for it.  He was in a surly mood because of how confused he was about his own insane desire for seeing his brother’s blood splattered face earlier.  He needed to get some air and some distance and figure things out.

Dean’s heart sank to the floor when Sam pushed his seat back and said he was going back to the motel.  Dean tried to hide his disappointment and self loathing, behind bravado, by saying as he threw Sam the keys, “Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you later, all right?”

Sam had to work hard to hide his reaction.  He knew there was a pissy shock that played across it his face, but hoped his renewed desire for his brother didn’t form any of what was displayed.  The thought of Dean getting rough with him back in their room, it did things at the base of Sam’s spine that he had no clue how to handle.  He needed to get clear and get some time to himself or he might say or do something he would forever regret.

Gordon asked Dean if it was something he said that made Sam leave, but Dean told him Sam got that way sometimes.  Truth was, Dean hated the way Sam had looked at him just now, almost as much as he hated how he had looked at him back at the lumber yard.

He tried to hide his sadness by examining his quickly disappearing beer.  He swallowed his unhappiness and challenged Gordon to a game of quarters.  Dean hoped to drown his emotions in useless male bonding and boatloads of alcohol.  He wanted to get to know Gordon.  The man was the first hunter that they had ever really been around as adults and he seemed to see Dean with some kind of awe.  Dean had never experienced that before. 

Sam went back to the motel glumly. 

Dean found himself talking to Gordon in ways he had never talked to anyone before.  He told him about hunts he and his dad had gone on.  Then he admitted how hard it was to lose John.  How it had eaten a hole inside him and he wasn’t handling it very well.  Gordon just got it. Dean didn’t even have to explain.  Because Gordon had lost his sister, he knew exactly how Dean was feeling.

It was exhilarating and scary to open up to someone in this way and Dean couldn’t believe how it made him feel.  When Gordon told him it was good that he felt that darkness rising inside himself, eating everything in sight, it took Dean’s breath away.  He always felt he had to hide his darker side from Sam.  Had to keep himself together and protect Sam from the hideous hungry thing building deep within Dean.

But Gordon said it was good, it was useful.  That it would help him kill what needed killing.  He looked Dean in the eye as an equal and told him it wasn’t a crime to need his job.  Dean swallowed hard.  He had never been treated this way, with reverence and respect for his talent and skills as a hunter.  He had never been made to feel right about himself or his feelings.  He didn’t know what to do with this.  And strangely, he felt guilty, almost like he was cheating on Sam somehow, talking this way with this man, feeling this way inside.

Sam couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy that was riding him mercilessly, but there was something else, something that felt like a cold stone in the pit of his stomach about Gordon.  He felt there was just something off about the guy.  He didn’t know if it was his instincts telling him this or his own jealousy making him see something that wasn’t there.  So he called Ellen at the Roadhouse to see if she had any background on the other hunter.

She confirmed that he was a good hunter but she panicked as soon as Sam told her that they were working with him.  She told Sam that Gordon was dangerous to everyone and everything around him and under no circumstance should they continue to hunt with him.

Gordon told Dean why he loved hunting.  That it was cut and dry, no wondering what is right or wrong, for hunters they knew who the bad guys were and knew they had to be taken out, no shades of gray in their lives.  Dean listened to Gordon say what Dean himself had always believed, but instead of being able to agree with the man, all he could think about was Sam.  How Sam believed bad guys could sometimes be saved.  How hard he had tried to save Max, who had clearly gone rogue and needed to be put down.  Sam had a never ending hope for the good in people, even when those people were monsters in Dean’s book.  He told Gordon that Sam wouldn’t agree with him.

Gordon’s answer sent a chill up Dean’s spine.  He said that Sam didn’t seem much like them. That stopped Dean mid drink.  Gordon quickly changed tactics, and said that he didn’t mean Sam was wrong, just different.

Gordon went on to say that he and Dean were born to do this, to be hunters.  He said it was in their blood.  It poured an unfamiliar feeling down over Dean.  One of complete acceptance of who and what Dean is, no explanation necessary, no guilt over enjoying the hunt and kill necessary.  Dean had never felt such recognition, such approval from anyone in his entire life.  He swallowed hard, and again thought of Sam. 

Sam didn’t know what to do with the knowledge Ellen had given him.  He knew he had to tell Dean as soon as he got back, but who knew when that would be.  And he was afraid, if Ellen was right, what if Dean was in danger at this moment. But surely no harm could come to him just from sitting and drinking with the guy.  Sam was unsettled so he went to get a soda and stretch his legs.  His attention was drawn by the feeling someone was watching him.  He heard a sound off in the distance that did nothing to alleviate the feeling.

He made his way back to his room and laughed at himself for his fears once he was inside but then his instincts were proven right when he was jumped from behind.  He punched the guy and knocked him down, only to find another attacker.  He punched him too but then was hit on the head with the heavy telephone, causing him to hear bells before blacking out.

He awoke hooded and bound to a chair.  Once the hood was removed the bartender they had seen earlier stood before him with his fangs out.  He snarled at Sam but then a female voice echoed through the room calling the vamp Eli, and telling him to back off.  She walked over to Sam and took the gag out of his mouth, introducing herself as Lenore and assuring him she wasn’t going to hurt him. 

They talked and she tried to convince Sam that her nest was different. That they didn’t hunt humans but instead their diet subsisted of only cattle blood.  This matched the reports of mutilations that had been part of what alerted the boys to the town’s problems anyway, backing up her story.

She told him her people were leaving town and just wanted to be left alone.  She just wanted to convince Sam not to follow them.  Sam was still skeptical so to prove to him she could be trusted, she had her people take him back to the motel and free him.

Sam paid attention to all the hints leaving their nest, memorized all the details he could feel and hear.  He was unhappy to see when he got back to the motel that Gordon was there with Dean.  They were hunched over a map together at the small table in the boy’s room and it stabbed his guts with jealousy the minute Sam saw it.

Dean turned and asked Sam where he had been but instead of answering Sam just asked Dean to talk to him alone outside.  He explained that he had been at the nest and tried to make his stubborn brother listen to the fact that these vamps were different and not evil.  Dean was clear, they had to be killed, they were vampires and therefore had to be taken out.  But Sam fought him.  Told Dean that they were different and their job wasn’t to kill monsters but to stop evil.

Sam tried desperately to convince Dean that they had to let these vampires go, that they weren’t hurting anyone.  Dean insisted that vampires were all the same and told Sam that Gordon had been hunting these vamps for a year and knew they were bad news. 

Sam took that like a hit to the chest.  He asked in astonishment, if Dean was taking Gordon’s word over his.  Sam told Dean that Ellen had said Gordon was bad news.  Dean became defensive and asked why he should listen to her since he barely knew her.  Sam rebutted that question with sarcasm, saying, “Cause Gordon’s such an old friend.”

Sam looked Dean square in the eyes and asked, “You don’t think I can see what this is?”

Dean asked in disbelief, “What are you talking about?”

Sam explained, “He’s a substitute for Dad, isn’t he?  A poor one.”

Dean turned away saying, “Shut up, Sam.”

Sam told his stubborn brother that Gordon wasn’t even close to their dad, not on his best day.  Dean barely started to say he wouldn’t talk about this when Sam verbally barreled over him with, “You know, you slap on this fake smile, but I can see right through it.”

His voice took on a heated tone, filled with all the anger and bitterness he had felt all night, “Cause I know how you feel, Dean.”

His voice rose to an almost yell, “Dad’s dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can’t take it.”

Dean’s chest filled with icy cold fear.  The words his brother had just stated echoed so closely with what Dean had shared with Gordon earlier at the bar.  It stabbed at Dean’s soul to think maybe Sam could read his mind.  He had no clue what else Sam might have picked up.  He was so scared and that fear began to turn, as it usually did, to anger and rage.

Sam thought about how hurt he was that Dean was bonding with Gordon.  That he treated Sam in a dismissive way he hadn’t the entire time they had traveled together for the past year.  Sam had believed Dean truly saw him as his equal now, but he had turned to Gordon at the first sign of someone more capable, someone more like Dean.

He took all that pain, all that feeling of betrayal and spit out at his brother, “But you can’t just fill up that hole with whoever you want to.  It’s an insult to his memory.”

Dean’s face was hidden behind the bland form it took whenever he was deeply hurt.  There was a deadly stillness to his posture before he nodded his head, and said okay before starting to turn away from Sam.  The anger bubbled up and he cut back towards Sam and swung a blow right at Sam’s face.  The punch landed hard and Sam cried out with a grunt.

Sam turned back to Dean, touching the spot where the punch had landed.  His body flooded with endorphins and Dean’s threat from earlier echoed in his ears as desire mixed with sadness churning confusingly through Sam.  He tried to swallow all that down and looked at his brother.

Dean was breathing hard, opened mouthed.  He had the stubborn determined look in his eyes he got when he felt righteous about something.

Sam stood steady in the face of it and said breathily, “You can hit me all you want, it won’t change anything.”

Dean told him he was going to the nest, and it was fine if Sam didn’t want to tell him where it was, he would just find it on his own.  He turned and stomped off towards their room.

Sam called after him in frustration, “Dean.”

The boys entered the room a step apart only to discover Gordon was gone.  Sam said they had to stop him and Dean countered that they should lend him a hand.

Sam let part of the hurt he was feeling show in his voice when he said, “Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you?”  And also a little anger with, “You owe me that.”

They realized that Gordon had stolen their keys as well.  Dean hot-wired the car and Sam told him the exact direction and distance to the nest, surprising Dean with all the detailed information he had kept from him before. 

Dean complimented Sam, saying he was good, but tempered it with the tease that Sam was a monster pain in his ass, but finished with the fact that Sam really was good at what he did.

They drove off towards the nest, Sam hoping they could get there before Gordon wiped the innocent vamps out.

Dean chewed on all that Sam had accused him of as he drove.  Thought about what he had confessed to Gordon and how much that had felt like a betrayal to his brother.  He was so confused and conflicted about his own feelings and now to top it all off he was confused about what to do with this hunt.  He missed the days when things were black and white, when John said jump and all Dean had to worry about was asking how high, and protecting Sammy from bad things, and John’s wrath.  Dean was lost.  He knew it.  He just didn’t know what to do about it.

Sam and Dean walked into the vampire’s farmhouse. It seemed quiet, had almost the feel of being deserted, except for a half loaded truck out front.

They found Gordon standing in front of Lenore, who was tied to a chair and bloody.  When Dean asked him what was going on, Gordon bragged he had been poisoning her with Dead Man’s Blood and was going to start cutting off her fingers until she told him where the rest of her nest was.

Dean tried to talk Gordon down, but he wasn’t having it.  Sam told him to put the knife down but he refused.

Gordon told the brothers they were right, she would never talk, so he got a larger knife out of his bag and said he would just put her out of her misery.  Sam walked towards him saying he was going to let Lenore go.

Gordon turned the knife on Sam and held him at the point saying he wasn’t going to do a damned thing.

Dean advanced down the opposite side of the table mirroring Gordon’s placement.  He told him he knew how Gordon felt, that the vampire that killed his sister deserved to die, but before he could get out that Lenore was different, Gordon chuckled.  He said that the vamp hadn’t killed his sister, that it had turned her.  Then Gordon confessed to hunting her down and killing her himself.

Dean was stunned.  He couldn’t believe it.  Gordon told him it wasn’t his sister anymore, wasn’t human, and that Dean would have done the same.

Dean searched himself, knew, down to his toes, that Gordon was wrong.  If Sam turned, he would find a way to save him, to bring him back, he would do whatever it took to keep his brother.  He would never kill him.  He thought about what his dad had told him, thought about the promise John had asked of him, and knew in his heart he could never ever hurt Sam.  No matter what, nothing would make him do so.

Sam’s voice dropped to a cold whisper of accusation.  “So you knew all along then, you knew these vampires weren’t killing anyone.”

Dean realized how wrong he had been, he felt awful for doubting Sam, for not trusting his brother immediately.  Guilt and self loathing flooded through Dean, filling him thoroughly, like an old friend coming home.

Gordon grabbed Sam’s arm and sliced it open with the large knife, shoving the blade against Sam’s throat to hold him steady.

Dean’s gun came out instantly aimed right at Gordon’s head.  Dean’s voice was steady and hard when he said, “Let him go.”  It turned angry when he yelled, “Now!”

Instead of doing as he was told, Gordon moved Sam closer to Lenore, and held his bleeding arm over her, allowing Sam’s blood to drip against her cheek.  After only a couple of drops, her fangs descended and she began to snarl and shake trying to reach his arm.  The brothers watched silently as Gordon explained that vampires are all the same, bloodthirsty. 

Her fangs retreated, and she said no, and turned her head away from Sam’s arm.

Dean’s eyes grew wide in shock.  He told Sam to get her out of there.

Gordon stepped back and Sam freed Lenore, carrying her outside. Dean kept the gun pointed on Gordon and told him they had some things they needed to talk about.  Dean told Gordon that if he wanted to get to these vamps he would have to go through Dean. 

Dean couldn’t really believe he was doing this, standing against a hunter to defend vampires, but he felt in his gut it was the right thing to do.  Gordon was a sadist, he could see it now.  It wasn’t just about righteous kills, Gordon enjoyed the hurting and stalking of them too.  Wanted them to pay and keep on paying for what he lost. 

Gordon stabbed his large knife into the table basically telling Dean he would fight him for the chance to get at the vamps.  Dean dropped the clip out of his gun and put it in his pocket but as he moved to put his gun away, Gordon hit him.  Dean knocked him back and Gordon grabbed his knife off the table and lunged for Dean.  They fought and Dean managed to knock the knife out of his hand eventually.

Gordon told him they were on the same side and Dean denied it, saying that Gordon was a sadistic bastard.  Gordon knocked him down, breaking a table with Dean’s fall, saying that Dean wasn’t like his brother, that he was a killer like Gordon.

Dean watched from the floor as Gordon stalked closer, knocking his legs out from under him when he got within range.  He jumped on him and began beating his face before throwing him into a china cabinet.  Dean beat him into submission and tied him to a chair. 

Dean stood guard over Gordon until Sam got back from dropping Lenore off with her nest in town.  He came back in, surprised to see Dean looking worse for wear, but not half as bad as Gordon looked tied to the chair.  Sam asked sarcastically if he missed anything.

Dean told him “Eh, not much.”

Sam laughed a bitter laugh.  He told Dean that Lenore got away safely, and looked pointedly at Gordon while saying that they all did.

Dean told Gordon they would call someone to let him go in two or three days.

Sam asked if Dean was ready to go, and he said not yet. 

He stood and faced Gordon, remember how he was mesmerized by the man and felt betrayed, but not just by Gordon, but by himself.  Felt he had betrayed Sam, and their bond.  He took all that disgust and put it behind his swing as he punched Gordon in the face, knocking his chair back as he fell into unconsciousness on the floor.

Dean told Sam, “I’m good now.”  Looking up into his brother’s face and said somewhat gleefully, “We can go.”

As the brothers reached the bottom of the porch steps, Dean stopped Sam, and asked him to punch him.  Sam looked at him confused and so Dean asked him again, assuring him he wouldn’t hit Sam back in return.  Sam laughed disbelieving and told him no.

Sam walked away telling his brother he looked like he just did twelve rounds with a block of cement.  Then as a mostly teasing threat, he told Dean he would take a rain check. 

Dean was frustrated and felt like things weren’t right.  He needed to square things with his brother and this was the most visceral way he felt he could.  He had hoped to relieve the tension he felt and at least a portion of the guilt by allowing Sam to get a hit in, to level out the debt he owed him from the night before.

But with Sam’s refusal, Dean felt he had to say something.  He hated talking things out, but his soul needed it.  He was restless and knew that the unsettled feeling that had taken up residence between his shoulder blades needed a sacrifice and if Sam wouldn’t do it physically, then Dean needed to confess something that had him off kilter.

He told his brother that he wished they had never taken this job.  That it had jacked everything up.

Sam could immediately tell this was important.  That Dean wasn’t okay and it had nothing to do with him refusing to hit him as payback.  Sam paused by his side of the car and asked Dean what he meant.

Sam looked at his brother in concern.  Dean rarely began an emotional conversation himself and this one felt important, felt deeply significant somehow because Dean actually paused and thought about what he was going to say.  Sam could see the gears turning behind Dean’s expressive eyes before he spoke again.

“Think about all the hunts we went on our whole lives.”

Sam answered in a worried voice, “Okay,” as both brothers leaned against their sides of the car roof.

Dean met his eyes as he asked, “What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing?  You know?  I mean the way dad raised us.”

Sam’s heart felt warm and flooded with love for his brother, Dean was actually taking into account a new way of thinking, one that Sam knew was rocking Dean to his core.  He didn’t want to ruin this by saying the wrong thing.  He kept his voice calm but serious as he answered, “Dean, after what happened to mom, dad did the best he could.”

It was hard to believe that Sam was the one defending their father, but it felt right, felt like it would take some of the guilt he could see weighing down his brother’s shoulders.

Dean couldn’t help thinking about what John had asked of him in the hospital with hope, and fear as he said, “I know he did, but the man wasn’t perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things…”

Dean’s face churned with emotion and his voice was full of anguish as he confessed, “Man I hate ‘em, I do.”

He swallowed hard, he needed his brother to hear him, “When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn’t even think about it.” He barely took a breath before he stated vehemently, “Hell I even enjoyed it.”

That was the part that was getting to Dean. He remembered how Sam had looked at him as he had ended that vamp so violently.  He still felt his blood sing at the memory, but now it turned his stomach to think that that vampire had been innocent.  He had killed an innocent creature, and had enjoyed it.

Sam’s face didn’t look disgusted now, it was full of concern and caring, which made Dean feel somehow worse.

Sam wanted to say so much, but he didn’t want to spook Dean.  He heard the self loathing in Dean’s voice with the last of that statement.  He hated when Dean felt that way about himself.  Sam knew he was on shaky ground, Dean was opening up so much right now and Sam didn’t want to mess it up but he wanted to stop Dean from going down a dark spiral of self hatred.  Dean was so good at that, he excelled at it almost as much as he did at hunting.  He was just as skilled at it as he was killing.  Sam said the only thing he thought might help, “You didn’t kill Lenore.”

Dean actually paused before answering, “No, but every instinct told me to.”

His voice was calmer now, but he stubbornly lashed out at himself and twisted the knife in his own gut with guilt, as he continued, “I was gonna kill her.  I was gonna kill them all.”

Sam tried to break through that wall of self hatred Dean was building back up, “Yeah Dean, but you didn’t.  And that’s what matters.”

Dean thought it over for a few seconds, answering “Yeah,” to Sam’s heartfelt statement.  But his younger brother could tell he wasn’t convinced.

Dean’s focus turned away from Sam, the light catching his eyes and filling the green with shades of deeper jade and lighter aventurine.  It stole Sam’s breath as he watched Dean look out over the quiet still country side around them.  His beautiful eyes were haunted, and Sam knew he was going back through their kills over the years worrying and wondering how many of them were wrong, were a dark mark of guilt against his already tainted soul.

But then Dean broke his own silence by saying “Cause you’re a pain in my ass,” his voice low and gravelly as he smirked.

Sam laughed a somewhat relieved huff and then said lightly but seriously, “Guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then.” 

Sam opened the car door, thinking his brother was done with the rare but deep conversation, only to be surprised by Dean’s, “Thanks.”

Sam turned back to his brother, and stared into his soulful eyes, they seemed to be desperate for something, but Sam wasn’t sure what, approval, forgiveness, penance, Sam wasn’t sure what it was Dean needed, but desperately wanted to give it to him, whatever it was.  But he also knew by the scared vulnerable openness Dean was showing him, that he couldn’t address it, that Dean didn’t know how to process what he was feeling and was looking to Sam to lead the way, but would be overwhelmed by just about anything Sam could say right now. So Sam just said calmly, in spite of his heart beating so hard it felt like a hammerhead shark was trying to bust through his ribcage, “Don’t mention it.”

He climbed into his side of the car and sat, trying to ease his runaway heart.

Dean turned and looked back at the house, back towards where Gordon was, the man who had seemed to be a mirror of Dean’s own dark soul.  He worried, he was scared, and didn’t know what to do or how to process any of these conflicted feelings.  But Sam had been right about Lenore, had been right about so many things over the years.  And Sam said he would stay, would be here, so Dean would try to learn to trust Sam to point true north for him. 

His dad wasn’t perfect.  And that being the case, Dean knew he was wrong about Sam.  He had to be.  Dean knew in his heart he couldn’t do what his dad had asked, at least not all of it.  The part about watching out for Sam, hell, he’d been doing that every day for the past twenty four years, that was easier than breathing some days.  He would stick to that part of his father’s request, and just count on John’s being wrong about the rest of it, the same way he was wrong that all monsters are evil.

With a heavy heart but hopeful soul Dean climbed in and headed Baby away from the farmhouse.

**Author's Note:**

> Good golly Miss Molly, this one was hard to birth. I have worked on it and left it alone and worked on it and then abandoned it for days, but finally I was able to get through it. I am so sorry it took 3 weeks to get it up and here. I hope it isn't the mess that my brain fears it is. I have always loved this episode. So I don't know why it was so hard for me. I mean I know, depression is a motherfucker and that is why it was so impossible, but I think there may have been more than that too, just with the episode. I think it was hard for me to watch Dean with Gordon. It made me realize he had opened up to him so much more than I remembered. I mean I had always known he had bonded with him, but the way Dean knew he was sharing things with Gordon that he couldn't share with Sam, it really got to me. (I am sure a lot of that was because it was driving a stake right into my depressed mind too, but...)
> 
> Anyway, I hope it won't be so long in between stories now. I am hoping I am getting my groove back. I love you all and can't thank you enough for all your kudos, comments and support!! Much love to [MsGer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsGer) and to [The_Capslock_Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Capslock_Queen) for being there for me while I was in such a dark place and for all your kindness and support. You are both wonderful friends and I am so honored that you boost me up when I am down!!


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